The Kara factor
by bhut
Summary: Jemma, Daisy and the rest run into the framework Kara and things begin to experience the butterfly effect. Meanwhile, Radcliffe is less concerned with redemption, and much more - with his own plan.
1. Chapter 1

**The Kara factor**

 _Disclaimer: no one of the characters belong to me._

…As Alistair Fitz did his best to choke her and she struggled to get her handgun into the right angle to fire, Jemma Simmons began to have an epiphany that every wise man, (or woman, in her case), had a fool in her pocket and she could begin to think through – if she survived this. Alistair Fitz was not an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., he was not even a field agent of Hydra, but he was bigger, heavier and proportionally stronger than she was, and she had underestimated him, and now-

There was a thud. Alistair Fitz collapsed.

"You know, I'm really beginning to be tired of you being in trouble almost always," a familiar voice spoke, sounding upset, (and reasonably so). "Seriously, you're back from your mission from Tripp already?"

"Shut up Ward," Jemma muttered, as she got onto her feet, breathing heavily. "Is he-?"

"Just stunned, May called online and said that you needed back-up; Burrows passed it onto me, so here we are," Ward said simply. "And, by the way? That gambit of Phil and Daisy have come to work, people are in revolt against Madame Hydra and her rule-"

"Yes, well," Jemma bit down on the ending – none of this was real – but she could see that Grant knew this bit by now. "I thought that you died?"

"Yes, no – when you left, people just began to wake up, they began to fight, and – everything, so now there are plenty of revolutionaries willing to fight with us," Grant replied. "Alistair Fitz as a hostage will do nicely too, however."

"This isn't about him being a hostage, this is about me using him to get to Leo," Jemma snapped. "And agent Burrows didn't tell us anything-"

"Gee, I wonder why? You winning personality, perhaps?" Grant's new companion asked, as she finished tying Alistair up, (he was already gagged and had a bag on his head as well). "BTW, have we met? I'm Kara, or, I suppose, agent 33-"

"Yes! Hello! Hi!" Jemma said brightly. "We have!"

"Oh? Are we friends?" the other woman did not sound very friendly or inviting herself, more like suspicious.

"Ah, no," Jemma looked away first. "We, uh, May kind of tricked Ward into killing you after you two kidnapped Bobbi and tortured her to get her apology…" she trailed away from the sheer killing intent that Grant began to emanate in her direction…and from the grip he had on her shirt: she was all but lifted from her feet by his strength _and_ fury.

"Excuse me?" the man in question looked at Jemma with a new, cold rage in his eyes that the Brit had not seen there since they met in the framework. "I was _tricked_ into killing Kara by _May_? And you say that she is _S.H.I.E.L.D._ out there? In addition, why would anyone want anything, any sort of an apology from _Bobbi Morse_? The woman has no alliances, no values, and no nothing. She is a fake plastic Barbie doll and nothing else."

"Um…" Jemma blanched as she finally realized that messing with Grant Ward just for fuck's sake could be very bad for one's health, uh-hu. "Squeak?"

"Grant, release her," Kara said gently, "and you," she added much less so, "answer him."

Now Jemma was in no danger of being strangled, (again), but instead Kara placed the edge of sharp, curving knife next to her cheek, right on the eye socket, and while Jemma wasn't big on knife-related knowledge, somehow she didn't doubt that the other woman could kill or mutilate her with one just good hit of the blade.

"You were Hydra," she told Grant, doing her best to sound brave. "You and your S.O., John Garrett. You betrayed us-"

"I wasn't asking about me," Grant replied calmly, "I figured this out awhile back, remember? We were talking about Kara."

"Um," Jemma twitched. "She was working with you, so she had to be evil? Um, somehow it sounded better before-"

"Oh – Simmons," Grant smiled gently and Jemma gulped: the last time he was smiling like this was when she tried to kill him in the Arctic and failed, and he…didn't kill her, actually. Um. There was something wrong with that statement, _now_ Jemma could see this clearly, but-

"You just don't get it?" Grant continued, gently taking Kara's hand, and knife, away from Simmons' face. "Death is nowhere _near_ the worst fate that a person can suffer, dishonor is far worse. You claim to be heroes? Then start acting like them. You are not heroes? Adjust your attitude appropriately. And remember – it's not about the other guy, it's about you."

"We're _S.H.I.E.L.D._ agents," Jemma growled out. "We cannot allow ourselves to be knights-"

"Trust an Anglo-Sax to use a knight analogy when driven into a corner," Kara shook her head as she sheathed her knife. "At least Bobbi was more honest about what she was… So was Lance, for that matter…" she looked away, and even through her new cloud of fear, (and shame, perhaps), Jemma could see that the older woman was absolutely miserable right now, in a very sad way. She could also see that whatever it was in Grant's eyes…scared her much more than any physical threat could, and so they made their way back to (framework) S.H.I.E.L.D. base in silence.

/ / /

When the trio arrived at the base, (Grant and Kara decided to keep Alistair safely stowed in another place, off the base, for the moment for safety's sake, and Jemma did not challenge them), the first person who met them was Daisy.

"Jemma! You're back!" she yelled enthusiastically, before noticing Jemma's overall misery, bad physical condition, and the other two people with her. "Um, hi, Ward. You are alive. And Kara. Hello too. Where have you been?"

"Yes, I and the rest of my force caught a lucky break, as you may've heard from some of the new arrivals," Grant nodded evenly, his voice neutral, perhaps – too neutral, "and sorry about the – everything. I, Kara and agent Simmons got caught in a frank, straightforward and personal exchange of opinions and views and it got too in our face for everyone's tastes. Our bad."

"That's okay," Daisy muttered, looking away. The presence of Kara Palamas in this universe did not change anything, really, but… "You, uh, were on a mission?" she muttered to the other woman. Somehow, learning that she was alive in this universe made everything even worse than before. "How it went?"

Kara gave the other woman an unreadable look, opened her mouth, and-

"Tripp! Your woman is here!" Grant yelled as loudly as he could – Daisy was almost blown by the sheer volume of the cry. "Get your arse over here now!"

Daisy shook her head, trying to clear her ears, when Tripp appeared ASAP, looking slightly out of breath. He took one good look at Kara, Kara looked back, and Daisy almost blinked and missed the moment when they crossed the distance between each other and hugged each other very, very tightly.

As the framework version of agent 33 burrowed her face in Tripp's chest, Daisy felt a pang of jealousy, loneliness, loss. Instinctively she looked around and saw a similar look on Grant's face. "I'm sorry," she muttered in a tiny voice. "Sorry for messing everything in here and Jemma just made things worse."

"Hey, you got things moving for the better," Grant muttered back. "You aren't bad, and Simmons is…just British. It's something that she has to live with."

"…There are many things that people have to live with," Daisy blinked. "I just didn't think that being British is one of them."

"Yes, well," Grant muttered, before he abruptly changed his attention. "Suzy Therese! Get out of here and say 'hi' properly!"

"Aw, Uncle Ward, you caught me again!" the girl, about Hope's age or younger muttered as she got from around the corner. "Hey, mom!"

"Hey, sweetheart," agent 33 smiled brightly at her younger version, before getting to her knees and giving the latter a hug of her own. "I'm so happy to see you again!"

"Mommy!" the mini-Kara said brightly.

"She's adorable," Daisy muttered to no one in particular. "She looks more like Kara than Tripp, though-"

"Yeah, the truth is a bit more complex," Grant muttered back, "I'll explain later, when we fly to your mission."

"I thought Tripp was going to fly us…" Daisy trailed away.

"He and Suzy hadn't been with Kara for months – let them have this moment," Grant looked away. "After all of you are gone, will we all just stop existing?"

"I don't know," Daisy muttered. "Jemma might, Leo might, but-"

"But both of them are fairly toxic so anything that they will say is naturally suspect, even if one of them _wasn't_ Hydra and the other has her own issues," Grant replied flatly.

"…They're good people," Daisy replied just as flatly. "They have their own flaws and yes, they and their drama can be hard to endure sometimes – not so long ago I felt similarly and left S.H.I.E.L.D. for six months straight, but they are still my family. You can choose family, of course, but sometimes? It chooses you…"

"I know," Grant muttered, clearly lost in his own thoughts. "I hope for both your sake and mine that everything will be all right with the op."

'You've probably just jinxed us,' Daisy wanted to say, but… there was physical proximity, and she had plenty of her own mental baggage that she'd been carried around ever since she had a personal experience of what being brainwashed was like, of Lincoln's demise, (which was something else, in a bad way), so what she said instead was: "Um, quickie?"

Something broke free in Grant's gaze, something hot and passionate; he carefully scoped Daisy up and carried her into the quinjet…

/ / /

 _Meanwhile…_

"They," Leopold Fitz, or rather – The Doctor – said with an icy fury that was not anything like how Fitz used to sound. "Have my father. They are going to pay."

"Of course they will, Doctor," Holden Radcliffe replied brightly from his position as he was busy making…something, (looking like a couple of matching metal cuffs of all things). "I've no doubt."

The Doctor gave the older man a look. Ever since Radcliffe got freed and made a deal – his former allies in exchange for freedom and eventual immortality – the man was growing increasingly insufferable and arrogant, busy inventing something in the process. He was almost supernaturally fast with whatever he was working on – supposedly on "to help you get closure, Doktor," the older man commented, as apparently the last part was said aloud. "Don't worry; I'm sure that you will be reunited with your father by the end of the day and all!"

The Doctor was not impressed. "You seem to have recovered nicely," he muttered. "Quickly too. Moreover, why so excited? They were your _friends_ , after all!"

"I have no friends, not among the S.H.I.E.L.D. crowd" Radcliffe abruptly changed his vocal tone, his merriment vanishing in an instant. "I once…I once had someone who was almost like a son or a younger brother to me. It did not last – I opted for safety and obscurity, and he…did not. He had honor, you see, and honor is another one of those things, like love – you think that it makes it all better, but it is not. It is as Shakespeare has written-"

"Never knew the man, I'm guessing he's another pretentious jackass like yourself, and if you make another dig at Ophelia I'll stitch your mouth shut," The Doctor growled, as he shook the older man by his collar. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes!" the older man gave a look, and the sudden venom in Radcliffe's voice briefly startled even The Doctor. "I perfectly. Compliance will be rewarded?"

"Yes," The Doctor refused to be unsettled by his interlocutor's sudden but constant character changes. "And don't you ever forget it!" He straightened his collar and went to check on his other underlings.

Radcliffe was left once more only to his own devices – and creations. Consequently, he continued to work on them, just muttering once – "And the deal with the higher powers can be damned" – in a language that was not from Earth…

 _TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Kara factor II**

 _Disclaimer: see the first chapter._

As the quinjet departed for one last time, (framework standards), carrying Daisy, Jemma, and the rest of their friends, Jemma found herself even more miserable than ever – and that was no mean feat.

"…You okay?" Daisy sat next to her friend, who just huddled there, whatever potential good mood generated by the reunion with Tripp now gone.

"…Shouldn't you be with _Ward_?" Jemma asked with more bitterness than she wanted to.

"…Mack wanted few words with him instead – S.H.I.E.L.D. business," Daisy pointedly misinterpreted Jemma's question, but there were warning tones in her voice.

"…Sorry for sniping at you," Jemma decided to fold first. "I didn't mean this; none of this is-"

"Jemma, stop. I know, okay? I _know_ ," Daisy now genuinely growled a threat. "You've been on this all this time-"

"I cannot help it," Jemma confessed. "Because the Darkhold is involved, we know this now. What if this all is real, instead?"

"…Jemma," Daisy's voice would scare a spotted hyena, now. "Then we're in more trouble than we were before."

"Problem?" Melinda trotted over to the younger two women.

"Not exactly," Daisy gave their friend a wan smile. "Nothing specific, more like a gut feeling that things will go wrong in general-"

"Well, obviously," Melinda rolled her eyes. "Things _always_ go wrong, yeah? Thus, the last thing we need is infighting. After all, we're all friends here, aren't we?"

"Yes," Jemma replied, just as Daisy said: "No." Seeing how _both_ of her interlocutrixes gaped at her, she amended, hastily: "What I _mean_ is that we're a _team_ on the other side; we're not friends, we're more like family. We fight to protect the world, we work with each other without any problems, but we do not get along and we do not always care much for each other as well. May, I know that you don't remember, but on the other side? I once took a very long sabbatical and almost did not come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. I would like to tell you that we are the good people, but we are not. We are just…people who chose this sort of life-"

"I believe you," Melinda said quietly, but Daisy fell silent all the same. "I also believe you now about us being a team, about us being S.H.I.E.L.D. You just described what being an agent is all about, especially an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.," she smiled, sadly, clearly lost in her own thoughts. "You know the mess with the Patriot? It is on me too, at least in part. If I were not so retardedly stubborn in believing that S.H.I.E.L.D. and Hydra were similar, things would have been different. Your boyfriend's right – Hydra just wants to hurt people…"

"My relationship with Grant was never very straightforward," Daisy replied with a humorless smile. "And what is more? For a while – in our world – the two of _you_ dated instead."

May blinked and thought this over. "Nah," she shook her head. "The two of us would've been better as _friends_. There are some perks of dating a younger man when you're Hydra-Kappa, you know, but after the two of you had to replace your bed, I realized that this isn't a relationship that I want – I want something different…genuine…someone different…" she looked askance at Coulson who was doing his best to pretend that he wasn't listening-in onto their conversation. (The twitching ears rather ruined the effect). "Say, _you_ don't have a girlfriend waiting back home, do you?" May turned to Coulson and asked brightly.

"No, no, I'm unattached and single," Coulson replied in an equally bright tone of voice. "And Hydra-Kappa? What's that?"

"A rank that is meaningless," Melinda looked away. "A hollow title. Ward is really lucky to have you," she turned back to Daisy. "You gave him meaning, a reason to live, you know?"

Daisy felt torn – she both wanted to die and to kill everyone present at this conversation at the same time. "Melinda?" Grant's voice came through the intercom. "Can you come over into the cabin now? We got trouble on the horizon, but I would like to consult you all the same."

"Hm," Melinda looked at the intercom – apparently Ward, (as well as Mack, BTW), had listened to their conversation on the same.

/ / /

"…You know, when I asked Melinda for a consultation I didn't mean everyone," Grant muttered a brief while later, when the aforementioned everyone, (i.e. the rest of the team) just entered the pilot's cabin. Considering that Mack was in the other seat, this made the cabin kind of crowded.

"Sorry," Melinda did not sound exactly apologetic, more like her old self, (the concerned version, as strange as that sounded). "But you're right. We've been made."

"I'm sorry?" Simmons piped-up from behind. "What do you mean?"

"The resistance got this aircraft from Hydra," Melinda replied, patiently. "This means that it can detect other Hydra aircraft, even cloaked one, but it works the other way around, too."

"Is this how we got made when we flew to confront Dr. Radcliffe?" Jemma asked, quietly. "Didn't you know this-?"

"Yes, I suppose I have," Grant replied, equally quiet. "I made a mistake, back then…"

There was a pause that no one really knew how to break: this was probably the most civil conversation that Grant and Jemma had in a long time. "We land now," Melinda finally stated and Grant complied. "Simmons, you still have the coordinates?"

"Yes-?"

"We'll make the rest of the trek on foot."

"It's not that far," Jemma nodded, checking again the coordinates, given to them by Radcliffe. "Will Grant be going back-?"

"No," Melinda shook her head. "The Doctor thinks that his father is with us, while he's not. Alistair is truly loyal to his son and the rest of Hydra, but Tripp and Kara will probably figure out how to make useful all the same. We, on the other hand, should keep him and his son away from each other as long as possible, so we all stick together. Any arguments?"

There were none.

/ / /

The sewers through which the sextet sneaked were a far call from the quinjet upon which they just flew, but Daisy did not care. S.H.I.E.L.D. was in worse circumstances before, Hell, her and Jemma were in worse circumstances before…and it was only the LMD version of May who had saved their asses the last-last time, so this was not anything new.

What was new…Daisy was not sure. Yes, Fitz was out, Ward was still in, which was disturbing. May and Coulson – Daisy was not sure about Mack – hated Fitz rather than Ward, which was disconcerting. May actually acted more human than she ever did before this incident…um.

"Daisy, are you okay?" Jemma asked from her position in front of Daisy: they were in a rather narrow corridor, as far as sneaking-in went.

"Yes. You – not so much?" Daisy muttered back.

Jemma just nodded, radiating misery even from her back. Daisy…actually could relate and understand the other woman's unhappiness: the way that everyone was turning upon Fitz was disheartening; yes, they did not know about the young Scot's true character here, but-

Here Daisy's thought went in completely unwanted direction, regarding how all of them turned upon Ward when Coulson brought him for the Arctic mission, and – everything else. Considering that they were about to part ways again, (permanently, again?), Daisy so did not need to go down _that_ memory lane…

"So, what is the deal with Tripp and his wife?" Coulson, judging by what was going on behind Daisy, was not dealing well with silence either. "And why is Grant-?"

"He and Kara aren't related by blood," May's voice was reluctant and unhappy, "but he always considers her to be his sister, you know? After Hand was gone, there was a hole in his life and Kara filled it. Good for her!" There was a strange emotion in her voice, almost like envy, but no one commented on this. "Everybody assumed that the two of them will get married, but somehow it never stopped Tripp – he was always on the periphery of the two of them, almost as if he was angling for a threesome… Of course, in reality, he and Grant were working for you people, the resistance, but everyone was much fooled. Then – Hunter and Morse blew in. I do not know the details; I know mainly that the two mercenaries cared nothing for S.H.I.E.L.D., for Hydra, for anyone but themselves, and also that they also had plenty of fun by playing both sides for their own gain…and eventually setting Kara up as their scapegoat. Kara was never a _good_ Hydra agent; she was just too kind, and thus never very popular among us. Everyone would have turned on her, but Grant and Tripp managed to expose Hunter and Morse's double-dealing just in time. Of course, Tripp also got exposed as a member of the resistance, but…something tells me that for him it was worth it to save Kara, and Grant – and me, I suppose – lost control of CyberTek, which was a pity. As far as potential retirement eggs went, this was a very nice one…"

"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" Daisy did not even have to lie. "Aren't you and Grant field agents, or specialists, of Hydra? Err… This didn't come out right…"

"No, for the last few years Grant was usually training new agents, while I was busy with administrative duties," Melinda grimaced. "I don't really go into the field anymore, only when the Patriot had been sighted… but now he's gone…"

"Don't worry," Phil patted Melinda on the shoulder. "I'm sure that you'll meet someone else…"

"We both know that my relationship with the Patriot wasn't that sort," Melinda grimaced, "and besides, maybe I already have… Hey! When this is over, maybe I can show you my freckles?"

"You don't have any-"

"They're not on my _face_ -"

"Oh!" Phil did not even try to keep his excitement out of his voice.

From in front of Daisy, Mack made a choking sound. "We're here!" Jemma echoed him brightly. "Can you two stop flirting with each other now?"

"Sorry," Melinda did not sound very apologetic at all. "So what do we have here?"

That was actually a _good_ question, as both Daisy and Jemma could testify. The sextet have entered an abandoned building, (seriously, how many of them were here, in the framework?), with little inside it save for some rooms, also empty, and a large, round well in the middle. Surprisingly, the well was painted bright, almost vivid yellow – a true rarity in the world where colors were much more subdued compared to the real world.

"I think that we're supposed to jump down there," Daisy muttered, not feeling very insistent on her theory.

Instead of replying, Mack, May and Ward flicked some small coins down the well, and they all hit the bottom with notable sounds. "You want to try again?" May grumbled.

"Daisy needs to use her vibratory powers to activate the backdoor," Radcliffe explained brightly; the rest of 'The Doctor's' entourage were already cocking their guns, but the S.H.I.E.L.D. sextet had scattered and the Hydra goons' gunfire was in vain.

Well, _almost_ in vain, sadly…"

"Ouch!" Coulson bit a grimace as he and May huddled behind some barrels. "I think I've been hit!" And he indeed was bleeding, and this was not something that made May happy at all.

"A gun," she growled. "I need a gun-"

"Here, I got one from Ward," Coulson grimaced as he pulled out his handgun. "He never asked for it back-"

"A Glock? I can work with that!" Melinda said brightly after checking the gun's magazine. "Also? We owe Grant one!" She clicked the safety off, got onto her feet – and began to kill.

The sound that the Glock made was nowhere as loud as the HK guns of the Hydra goons, but it did not matter. Nor did their body armor – Grant's firearm fired somewhat modified, armor piercing rounds, and May knew where to aim and what to hit. Hydra goons numbered half a dozen, and May killed them all in under a minute without breaking a sweat…

The silence that fell after the thundering fire of the now-dead goons was even more shocking. "Ward, we owe you one!" Melinda shouted….but Ward did not answer.

He and Simmons had their own problems.

/ / /

…More precisely, The Doctor was holding them at a gunpoint – he had zeroed-in on Simmons, (and Ward, who ran off with the Englishwoman during the current commotion), and currently had them cornered.

Mind you, Ward was not exactly impressed by The Doctor's success, or by Radcliffe's who was currently standing behind the younger man, looking thoughtful.

(Actually, if anyone had asked The Doctor, or if he deigned to answer anyone who _wasn't_ Madame Hydra, then they would've learned that The Doctor found this position of Radcliffe disturbing; somehow, whenever he wasn't facing Radcliffe directly, he couldn't shake the feeling that Radcliffe…wasn't Radcliffe, but someone else. It sounded crazy, but there you were. However, no one asked and he told this to no one, so this all remained unknown and pointless).

"Leo, hey Leo," Jemma said with a wane, feeble smile. "It's me, Jemma. I love you."

"You are nothing to me," The Doctor replied coldly. "Say it now or he dies-"

Several things began to happen at once. Grant rushed the shorter man and began to wrestle, causing The Doctor's gun to fire at the ceiling. At the same time, Radcliffe rushed both of them and slapped his new invention – the cufflinks - upon wrists of both men, while simultaneously pushing them towards the gaping pit of a potential backdoor. Caught in the moment's excitement, Jemma raced after them as well.

"Now, Daisy!" Radcliffe yelled, his voice bright, clear, loud, and _nothing_ like his usual. "Use your powers to open the door!"

Failing to recognize Radcliffe as the crier, (his voice did not sound anything like his, but more like some woman's, and all the commotion did not help recognition any either), Daisy complied. Her vibrations struck the supposed backdoor – and it opened into a portal.

Upon seeing this, May and Coulson, whose own nerves were also strained, rushed and jumped into it, followed closely by Simmons and Fitz…who was still connected to Ward by Radcliffe's invention…and the design on the impromptu, avant-garde cufflinks was starting to emit its' own glow as the two men fell into the exit, followed by Simmons…

"Daisy, something is wrong!" Mack yelled, but small, yet powerful hands have already grabbed them from behind, effortlessly lifting them both, (and Mack was not just big and strong, but also heavy…for the obvious reasons, at least).

"Perhaps," spoke a feminine voice that Daisy could almost remember, (and that _did not_ belong to AIDA in any of her incarnations). "Or perhaps things are - repairing themselves at last. Either way, I do not care. Even hellbeasts must pay their due and honor their debts." With these words, both Mack and Daisy were flung into and through the portal that led out of the framework…

 _TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Kara Factor III**

 _Disclaimer: none of the characters belong to me. Period._

Phil Coulson awoke in the real world, dropping out of his framework containment unit with a yell. It took him several moments to realize that it was not he who had been yelling, which was good, because Melinda was also there, and he would rather not embarrass himself in front of her.

"May," he looked around. "You're here, good. So are Fitz and Mack…"

Coulson trailed away. Fitz still was not there, (wherever 'here' was, but that's another question), instead there was Grant, staring at them with a rather feral look. "Daisy, and Simmons, told me that our world wasn't real, that I, and Kara, and Tripp weren't real, so why I am here, how am I here?" He grimaced and curled into himself, which was good – i.e., it was better if he promptly went RL and began to attack them instead.

Coulson, feeling rather lost himself, looked at Mack – no help there: Mack looked possibly even worse than Ward, lying prone, half-sobbing and looking seriously ill. "Radcliffe," Melinda muttered next to Coulson, "he must've betrayed us again, remember? When we were leaving, there was something dodgy with him and Ward, Fitz and Simmons…"

There was a very loud female shriek coming off their side: in all the excitement, even May lost track of their surroundings, which was bad…though when she and Coulson looked in that direction, there was no one instead…just some cloud of dispersing smoke.

"Was that Madame Hydra…I mean Aida?" Melinda blinked. "Hah, I guess that she was also expecting Fitz…" she looked back at Ward, but their former compatriot, (or a brand new one? Melinda actually was not sure), was not offering any commentary, but was rather competing with Mack for the state of the most miserable victim of the framework instead. Normally, this was not exactly a _bad_ thing, but given their current circumstances, it actually was. "Ward. What has Radcliffe do?"

"Me and The Doctor were fighting," Ward replied quietly, pointedly looking at someone else in the room. "This Radcliffe character put some sort of cuffs on both of us, before pushing us into the pit alongside Simmons. Where is she? Moreover, what is Radcliffe's endgame? And-"

He and Melinda scattered. Anton Ivanov, ( **cough** ) having decided to charge at them, having believed that they didn't see him, was unable to stop his rush in time, and collided with the framework instead. One of the framework's helmets clamped onto his head, there was a very bright flash, almost like a lightning bolt exploding, and when the light faded, 'the Russian' was down for the count.

"Phil?" Melinda asked even as she recovered her vision. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Coulson muttered, as he looked out of the window. "I thought that I saw something big in the water, though…"

"If we're lucky, then it was a whale; if not, then it's Hydra," Ward muttered.

"Ward, there's no Hydra in this world…" Coulson trailed away and looked at May. Well, tried to – for a change, the Cavalry would not meet his gaze. "Right. We need to talk-"

"We need to get out of here, wherever here is," Melinda said quietly. "Are we underwater?"

Wordlessly, Phil pointed to the window – yes, they were.

/ / /

 _Meanwhile…_

The recovery of Daisy and Jemma was less dramatic than that of their friends, but it was not pleasant either. "Where are we?" Jemma asked her InHuman friend. "On the quinjet?"

"Yes," Daisy nodded, as she looked around. "But something is wrong."

"Piper?" Jemma blinked as she faced the woman in question. "Prince, Davis? What is wrong _precisely_? Where's Yo-Yo?"

It was then that a door opened and Yo-Yo came through, following by a much bigger man that Jemma, for one, had never seen in her life. Judging by Yo-Yo's facial expression and skin that was much paler than normally, this was not good.

"This is very bad," Daisy muttered in agreement. "I fought this guy before, Jemma, and I don't think that I can beat him." She paused and added, to no one in particular. "And how come none of us are dead yet, either? The Griffon isn't this sort of a nice character."

"It's Yo-Yo's doing, ma'am," agent Piper sounded miserable herself. "She kind of kept us all alive for so long?" Somehow, the last bit was a question, not a statement, and this did not make Jemma feel any better.

"Yes," 'The Griffon' nodded solemnly. "But her influence is at end," he smiled. It was not a very nice smile – or very human one either. " _Quake_ , I believe that you've ran out of places to hide and of spaces to run, no? Are you ready to listen to our offer?"

"About as ready as you are to make it," Daisy muttered, clearly busy with her own thoughts. "Hey! Are you even allowed to make them? You yourself pointed out that you are a subordinate, not the head of Hydra-"

"Yes, but the doctor has trusted me with this," 'The Griffon' stopped even pretending to be 'nice' – not that Jemma cared about this at the moment, as his mention of a/the doctor stirred a certain response for her.

"Daisy?" she said, trying not to move her mouth, (and failing, actually). "Are you sure that we're still not in the framework?"

"It doesn't really matter, Jemma," Daisy shook her head. "I fought this guy before. I cannot beat him."

"…But you're you, Daisy!" Jemma blinked. "There isn't anyone that you cannot beat-"

"You know, it's funny that you say this," their interlocutor commented as he smacked his fist against his palm. "About beatings, that is." The smack was loud and meaty and Jemma really did not like what the man was implying. Judging by Daisy's look neither did the InHuman woman.

It was then that the alarms began to sound. "Now what?" 'The Griffon' growled as he whirled around and stomped out of the room. His form was oddly rippling somehow, and Jemma did not like it.

"Where's the dropbox?" Daisy snapped. "We need to go there now!"

"We cannot escape," Yo-Yo began, but Daisy glared at her, and the older woman gulped, clearly shaken. Jemma, who herself had been at the receiving end of Daisy's glares lately, could only sympathize with the other woman…or she would've, if she wasn't so busy being worried over Fitz, and the new threat, and what was that Daisy was talking about what she mentioned Hydra?..

Abruptly, everyone stopped, except for Jemma, who almost smacked into the aircraft's wall. "What's going on?" she demanded, even as she noticed that everyone else was looking through a nearest window at what was going outside. "Let me see, I'm the smallest!"

There was a pause as everyone just stared at her instead.

"Um, I'm the shortest?" Jemma winced. "The youngest?" Yeah, she still sounded immature and not like an S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

"Prince, pick her up and let her see," Yo-Yo suggested sourly. "I would do it myself, but-"

"There's no need for that!" Jemma snapped, as she walked over to the nearest window and looked through it. …Apparently, she was almost the right height for that, so Daisy just vibrated some box over to her, without saying a word, which was good, because Jemma might have ripped them all a set of new ones. Instead, she actually got to look out of the window, and saw… a smaller fighter jet fly around, shooting from its guns and dogfighting something that…was not another aircraft…

Before Jemma could distinguish as to just what it was, the others grabbed her and pulled her into the dropbox in question. "Why are we going down?" Jemma yelped. "There's nothing beneath us but the sea-" The box dropped and Jemma almost bit down upon her tongue, (which didn't improve her disposition either).

"Yes, there is," Yo-Yo said firmly. "And besides, that is where our friends are, and Mack…"

Jemma stopped arguing.

/ / /

 _Meanwhile, down below…_

Melinda May wasn't having a good day, After punching yet another Russian (or otherwise, it didn't really matter) thug overly hard, she was fairly sure that she had cracked some finger bones, and considering that Ward and Coulson were taking turns carrying her on their backs, she had broken one of her ankles in the process – these were some resilient thugs; maybe Aida, (and Radcliffe – by now Melinda wouldn't put anything past that man) had augmented them somehow; but-

However, they also had to help Mack along – the biggest S.H.I.E.L.D. agent of them all still had not recovered, and that just was not good. It also meant that by now, they were down to their half strength, and that was very bad.

"Oh good, you have made it," Anton Ivanov commented as he emerged from the shadows next to the final exit to the surface of their underwater hideout. (Some sort of a Soviet-age remnant, Coulson said. Melinda was _so_ impressed, really.) "I was worried that you died already. No, honestly, I was!"

There was a pause, as everyone just looked at him, not willing to make the first move. "Anton. Why are you smoking?" Phil finally managed, and indeed, there were wisps of smoke coming off Anton's skin, and they smelled very sharp too.

"Because this body is breaking down, and I'm not really Anton," the Russian/someone else spoke in a completely different voice. "Recognize me vocally, maybe?"

"Radcliffe," Coulson was the first to recognize this voice. "But – how? You told us that you died here, back in the framework? And – it isn't about the Darkhold anymore, is it?"

"No, it isn't," Radcliffe/not Radcliffe nodded, with a distinctly robotic creak in his neck. "Maybe it's about the woman I loved and who died on your watch?"

"…That's unfair," Coulson paled. "Fitz, Simmons, me, and even Ward were out of their minds at that time-"

"…Right, right, my bad," Radcliffe/not Radcliffe muttered. "I guess that I just gotten used to this voice that I instinctively used it now. Is this more clear?" his/her voice shifted again, this time into a female one, and one that was somewhat familiar to most of the people that s/he was talking to.

"Hand," Coulson blinked, now completely lost. "The fuck? I mean – how?"

"I'm an alien, Phil!" their interlocutor chuckled, causing smoke to erupt from his/her body in earnest now. "Grant Ward spared my life several times and helped me even more times. You, Coulson, you caused Izzy to die! …Agnes' getting shot and killed by one of _your_ people was just the cherry on the cake."

"So this is what, your revenge?" Coulson blinked. "Back in the framework, Ward told me that you trained him, not John-"

"And this makes me a good person?" Ivanov/Radcliffe/Victoria chuckled hollowly, even as smoke grew ever thicker around his/her robot body. "Phil, you never knew the real me! None of you shall ever know that real me. I'm going – to the land down under!" she laughed bitterly, and not very sanely. "But don't worry – the little, pardon me, _height-challenged_ – Leo Fitz shall keep me company!.."

It was then that flames burst out of the robotic body and it finally collapsed into ash and burned metal, leaving nothing living behind, and – no answers. Coulson, and May, turned to look at Ward. The man looked seriously ill. Clearly, any answers, or even suggestions of answers, would have to wait.

It was then that the door opened, and the foursome could see Daisy, Jemma, Yo-Yo, and several other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents – as well as their entourage, who had completely different insignia on their uniforms.

"General Ross," Coulson muttered in disgust even as he and the others exited the structure proper. "General Thaddeus 'Thunderbolt' Ross. Of all the people we could have run into-"

"I see that you know me," the man muttered back, eyeing Coulson with an even greater disgust. "I admit that you hold the advantage here, for I cannot return the favor."

"You cannot?" Coulson frowned in thought. "Why not go for the obvious answer?"

"Because the original Coulson is dead!" the other man bellowed. "Even that obnoxious brownnoser from The Hill, Talbot, doesn't state otherwise, you fraud! I don't know who you are, and I don't care-"

"I see that after all these years, after all the tragedies, and especially that mess with Blonsky, you're still a _monumental_ jackass," Melinda said flatly. "How'd you get here, anyhow?"

"Behold – the Raft!" Ross said grandly, jabbing his finger to one side, and May, Coulson, and the others saw a huge and circular structure stand next to the rig, dwarfing it…

"Whose idea it was to put you in charge of it, or anything else?"

The moment was ruined…especially because it was the Griffon who asked the question, even as he sat on top of the quinjet's dropbox as if he had landed on it from above. "And who are you?" Ross blinked. "Where did you come from?"

"Never mind that," the Griffon muttered dismissively. "Have your people found the book? The doctor wants the book and he is getting impatient. Speaking of impatient," he looked at Daisy with an odd look in his eye that was still clearly unfriendly, "you and I, we also need to settle this. You have gotten annoying, you know?"

"Look who is talking!" Ross snarled. "I don't know who you are or where you from, but if you think that you can come onto my operation and start bossing people around, you're wrong!"

"Perhaps," the Griffon would clearly rather finish his face-off with Daisy than deal with Ross again, (not that anyone could blame him, not on this occasion), "but regardless, either get the book or get lost. You'll get your turn; Quake is the more interesting annoyance, the doctor feels."

"That's it!" Ross shouted. He began to grow in a manner not unlike the Hulk, turning…not green, but red, actually, even as he loomed over the others, looking at the Griffon, right in the eye. "How's that for interesting, buddy?"

"Yeah, you've made your point," the Griffon muttered, as he looked over – at Daisy and Yo-Yo for some reason. "I'll be back with you later!"

"You're going somewhere?" Ross/Red Hulk snorted, and fell silent, as the Griffon himself began to change into a giant, well, griffon, a half-eagle, half-lion monster, big enough to fight, well, a fighter jet, for example.

"…And this is our cue to leave!" Daisy hissed to the others. "I fought the winged monster before, and I was unable to defeat it. Right now, I am so not looking to fighting both him _and_ the Hulk rip-off… Coulson, what is the deal with the red guy?"

"His name is Ross," Coulson muttered. "When first S.H.I.E.L.D. heard of him, he all but declared himself to be the Hulk's archenemy and was up to all sorts of mischief. Later, after the incident with Ultron and all, we thought that he had quieted down, apparently, he had not-"

"Very good, Coulson," came the comment of yet another newcomer, as he shadowed one of Ross's men, (who actually held the Darkhold now), "but too little too late. And you two – stop fighting!"

"You have got to be kidding me," Coulson blinked. "Does anyone here think that Radcliffe has betrayed us and we're still in the framework, just in a different setting or something? Because this is Daniel Whitehall, and I _did_ kill him-"

"Did you?" Whitehall smiled, even as everyone else, (except for the Griffon, it seemed), seemed to be shuddering, as if from some immense mental pain. "Or maybe you've just kicked my alien organs into overdrive, enabling me to become – the Kraken!" He chuckled in a rich, warm, crazy way, when…

"Now, Ward!" Melinda shouted, and the younger specialist fired a shot. It was a direct hit – right at the Darkhold. Whitehall stopped laughing, took a good look at the damaged artefact, (and Jemma would later swear that she saw the latter emanate some smoke as soon as Grant's shot had connected), and roared. 'The Russian rig' shook as if something as big as the Raft was shaking it, but the agents didn't have time to figure it out, as Yo-Yo had outdone her usual speed record getting them into a nearest aircraft, (that was large enough for them), and getting it into the air ASAP.

The latter was justified by the glimpse of a colossal sea monster that was thrashing in rage next to the rig and the Raft, perhaps similar to a giant squid or an octopus, but their new aerial vessel was taking height and distance away from the monster, so no one could not be sure.

"…So, this is why you're so good," Grant told Daisy, "and _you_ knew that our world isn't real," he turned to Simmons. " _Your_ version of Hydra is completely non-human at all!"

Jemma twitched and gave Daisy a look.

"You shut-up!" Daisy wailed, sounding half-scared and half-relieved rather than angry, even as she smacked Grant on the arm. "And thanks for making the shot!" She hugged him and burst into tears.

 _TBC_


	4. Chapter 4epilogue

**The Kara Factor IV**

 _Disclaimer: see previous chapters._

Leo Fitz was in Hell. The flames, the sulphur, the smell of brimstone, the coal-colored rocks and mountains – all of the indication showed that he was in 'the land down below', which simply was not fun.

"No, it isn't," Victoria Hand agreed, as she sat in all of her demonic glory upon one of such coal-based hill. (Well, maybe the hill was not composed of coal, but Leo Fitz did not care – for once, he had other priorities to be concerned with). Owl-like wings and a long, whiplike tail, (it looked skinny but Fitz didn't want to be hit with this appendage all the same), horns and hooves, and of course, long sharp claws – Hand had changed quite a lot since the last he seen her, (before Ward had her shot, that is). "But it's all in a manner of perspective, I believe."

"Why am I here?" Fitz demanded, trying _not_ to look at his interlocutrix, for she was also scantily clad, and- um. Fitz just may have acquired new issues from his relationship with Ophelia/Aida/Madame Hydra/etc.

"Because I decided that my debt to Ward is more important than any deal that I can have with Tripp," Victoria shrugged. "Just assume that I got my priorities straightened out and be done with it."

"Oo-kay," Fitz looked around. No Tripp or anyone else he could see. "Want to try again?"

"Simmons is your flip side, so with you here she is irrelevant," Victoria rolled her eyes, (and yes, she still wore spectacles. Go figure). "Coulson has already gotten his from karma, as did his daughter, Daisy."

"Um."

"And Melinda has freckles, so I guess she got a pass," Victoria smiled a smile that was both wistful and goofy, somehow.

"…May has freckles? Why we never saw them-?"

"They're not on her face-"

"Oh! Um," Fitz shook his head to clear it and to get his priorities straight. "Anyhow, what are we to do next?"

Victoria flatly looked down on him. "Okay, let's start with the beginning. What makes you think that there is a 'we'? Okay, an 'us', if you want to be grammatically correct?"

"Because you're S.H.I.E.L.D.-?" Fitz suggested carefully, cautiously. "I mean, okay, you look like some sort of an evil pinup-"

Victoria jumped off her seat and landed before him. "Let's continue, since the first part is clearly a lost cause," she snapped, looking down onto the short- the height-challenged Scot. "I am not S.H.I.E.L.D. no more, and-"

"Victoria!" came the VERY LOUD yell of one Antoine Tripplet, followed by the man himself as he walked through the infernal flames, unhurt by them at all, yet clearly angry…alongside the former agent 33, who was more cautious than her companion was, yet also possessing greater self-control as well.

"Hey. How are you?" she asked Fitz instead of Hand.

"We're in _Hell_ ," Fitz said grouchily. "What do you think?"

"It's probably Tripp's fault," Kara Palamas said thoughtfully, causing Tripp to facepalm and Fitz to gape. "If he hadn't decide to meddle bring in the original hell-beast over here for help, Grant and I would've been back in the world of the living, staying out of your way – probably. Well, mostly. I mean, could you help by steering Coulson away from us, even the original time around, especially in Mexico?"

"Um," Fitz blinked and looked at Tripp, completely lost. "What is she talking about? Come to think of it, why are you here?"

"I am supposed to be S.H.I.E.L.D.'s guardian angel," Tripp muttered sheepishly, producing an angelic halo, (somewhat on the small side) from his pocket. "Victoria is my opposite number – supposedly. Kara was supposed to be one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s martyrs, the best and the brightest-"

"Fuck you," Kara said flatly. "Yeah, I know that you're outmatched and overwhelmed, but where were you when the entire thing with _Bobbi Morse_ went down? Okay, I admit. You have character and you aren't just a more androgynous version of Morse, but that's a very low bar, it can only work if you're a Republican-"

"Uh, I sort of am?" Tripp winced.

"…Makes me glad that I'm a monarchist, basically," Kara muttered, before turning her attention over to Fitz. "And you?"

"Also!" Fitz right now could have agreed to be of _any_ political alignment if it meant moving things along. "Can we move things along?"

"To where?" Kara gave him a flat look. "For the moment, the world of the living is barred to _both_ of us. And as for _you_ ," she whirled and stared now at Tripp, "what _were_ you trying to achieve? To prove? That the amazing gyrating Daisy will always have a piece of Grant's heart – _at the very least_? What's it to you?"

"Um," Tripp looked around, from Victoria, who was staring impassively from beneath her demonic horns and behind her glasses, to Kara, who was glaring at him with just some purely feminine rage, to Fitz, who was looking completely small, and lost, and vulnerable – no help there either. "This is a mess, and yes, I cannot fix it by myself," he gave Victoria a look, "but maybe if someone will stop sulking and-"

Victoria growled. Her face, formerly still kind of human and reminiscent of the old Victoria Hand's face, now was not. Her tail flicked and lashed, and she seemed to be growing: physically, she appeared to be more intimidating than Tripp was, though Tripp _was not_ intimidated, actually. Well, not really-

"Tripp," Fitz could not be sure, but the voice seemed to be sounding from upstairs, "I know, okay? You are the better man, I believe it! However, darn it, it is not about me, it is about Kara – I promised to bring her back to the living! You want to be the better man? Deliver it! Bring Kara back, and I will do anything! I will give anything – my life, my happiness-"

Something changed.

/ / /

"Where the fuck are we?" Fitz blinked a split second later. "Are we, um, standing on a cloud?"

"Yes you are!" snapped a new voice, and Fitz turned around, and faced – alongside the others – director Fury of all people. "Antoine Tripplet! What can you say about this entire fiasco?"

"Um, err," Tripp look around, "you see…"

"Director Fury?" Fitz decided to take pity on the other man. "No offence, but what has happened?"

"Agent Fitz," the newcomer gave the height-challenged man a gimlet glare. "I'm _not_ Nick Fury; I am the Creator of the Universe! Got it?"

"Yes sir," Fitz squeaked. "It's just that, you see-"

"Don't go there," the Creator shot Fitz another Fury-like look. "And Tripp!"

"Yes sir?!"

"You actually caught your break. Ward has repented for real and fully, you won."

There was a pause saturated by the killing intent emanating from Kara Palamas.

"I, uh, have no idea what the director- I mean, the Creator Fury, I mean…" Tripp gulped. "Sir, what _are_ you talking about?"

"Ward repented, you earned yourself a reprieve. I am sending you and your team down to Earth so that you can start helping them with the new and improved Whitehall and the rest of the Old Ones. Now go!" Fury/not Fury made a gesture, and-

/ / /

 **Epilogue**

The phone rang. "Yes?" Coulson's voice came from the other side.

"Director-, I mean – Phil; I mean – Coulson?" Leo spoke from the other end: his particular landing, (from Heaven or not), had been somewhat hard his ass and the suggestive remark of Kara had not helped. "Um, it's me."

"Leo?" Jemma's voice came from the other end. "Is it really you or are we still in the framework?"

"Jemma? I honestly don't care anymore," Fitz confessed. "Thanks to Hand and Tripplet, I've been both in Hell and in Heaven, and had a brief audience with the Creator of us all, who somehow looks a lot like Nick Fury for some reason, complete with an eyepatch-"

"Fitz, don't worry. When _I_ was your age, I confused Nick with the other guy a lot too," Coulson's voice came back through the 'interconnecting device'. "You'll figure out who's the better man with age!"

"…Sir? That's TMI," Tripp groaned as Fitz just curled onto himself and (metaphorically) died. "But yeah, my team and I are coming to help. We're in Australia though, it will take a while."

"Roger."

"And is Ward there?"

"He and Daisy are busy elsewhere," you could practically _hear_ the distasteful grimace in Coulson's voice.

"I owe him one, so stop it," Tripp said flatly. "We'll see you soon."

He switched the communications off and looked at Fitz (not very impressed), at Kara, (even worse than Fitz), and finally at Hand (unmitigated loathing instead). "That's us, people!" he said faux-brightly. "Let's get moving! I am in charge, BTW-"

"You poor thing," Fitz said simply and hugged him.

 _The end_


End file.
